


the old two-beat waltzes

by segmentcalled



Series: j'ai été au bal [2]
Category: Polygon/McElroy Vlogs & Podcasts RPF
Genre: (discussion of), Anxiety, Collars, Coming Out, Communication, Daddy Kink, Developing Relationship, Epistolary, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Kink Negotiation, Love Confessions, M/M, No Smut, Recovery, discussion of past trauma, plot without porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-08 05:51:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21471094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/segmentcalled/pseuds/segmentcalled
Summary: Justin learns a lot about Patrick those first few weeks, personally and professionally.
Relationships: Patrick Gill/Justin McElroy
Series: j'ai été au bal [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1547680
Comments: 10
Kudos: 37





	the old two-beat waltzes

**Author's Note:**

> [j'ai été au bal](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pOjWOdrIWng) (again)  
the [two songs this piece](https://www.windrep.org/J%27ai_%C3%A9t%C3%A9_au_bal) is based on are "allons danser, colinda" and "les flames d'enfer" like, ALRIGHT, OKAY THEN  
"it's not everyone who knows how to dance the two-beat waltzes!" "i am condemned to the FLAMES OF HELL"  
........and that is the backstory for the choice of this song for this series, lmao
> 
> as always, text formatting from [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6434845/chapters/14729722) !!!

Justin works from home on Thursdays, which means he’s about to take a nap on the couch when Griffin walks through the door.

“Hey,” he says, and Justin cracks an eye open to look at him. “So, like, what the fuck is the deal with you and new dude, anyway? He asked me where you _were_ today and then went bright red when I raised my eyebrows at him.”

“Oh my god,” Justin sighs. “Don’t antagonize him.”

“I’m not! And you sure didn’t tell me anything,” Griffin says, as he perches on the armrest of the couch. “If I’m not gonna hear it from you, I’m gonna try and suss it out of him instead.”

“God, _please_ don’t do that, I don’t wanna blow up his spot,” Justin says. “I, uh, didn’t know you’d noticed.”

“‘Course I _noticed_, he looked like he was gonna pass out the first second he saw you, and I wouldn’t have thought anything of it except so did _you_. Which is fuckin’ suspicious as hell, J-man.”

Justin sighs again. Clears his throat uncomfortably. “We, um. Well, we — we sorta — don’t make that _face_, it was, I guess, after he got the job but obviously before he started — I had _no idea_, Griff, seriously, I didn’t do his interview and didn’t catch his last name when we met and there’s a zillion fuckin’ Patricks out there, so it was a total surprise when, like, oh shit, well guess anxious new hire is the guy I went home with last weekend, fuck. But we, like, talked about it, and sort of went on a date? And we might again? I dunno, Griffin, but we’re being responsible as we can about it. Did the whole HR thing and everything and it was fuckin’ _awkward as hell_ but I’m doing the best I can to not be a weirdo about it. He’s a good dude. I think he’s kinda shy. Please don’t bug him about it? I don’t want him to feel like — like we’re putting him on blast or something.”

“Shit, Justin,” says Griffin. Which pretty much sums it up.

“I know.”

Griffin shakes his head and pats Justin’s shin. “Well, that’s a hot mess! Good luck juggling that shit responsibly.”

Justin huffs out a humorless laugh. “Thanks for your support.”

“Just sayin’! Like, at least he doesn’t directly report to you, but, like, jeez.”

“I _know_,” Justin says again, a little helplessly. Griffin narrows his eyes at him, like he’s looking for something in his face.

“So help me god, you _like_ him.”

“Yeah, Griffin,” Justin says, weary. “That’s sort of the whole goddamn point.”

Griffin laughs; not meanly, but not sympathetically, either, the asshole. “Good fuckin’ luck!” he says again. “I did tell him you weren’t dying and were working from home, just so you know. And I didn’t pry any further.”

“Thanks,” Justin says. Griffin hops off the couch.

“I’m nothing if not helpful!” he says cheerfully, and grins at Justin’s scowl before he skedaddles off to his room, leaving Justin to his nap.

* * *

Justin learns a lot about Patrick those first few weeks, personally and professionally.

Patrick’s always getting fussed at for being late to work, because he has no time management skills re: his morning routine and is always racing in sometime after nine. Justin gets it — he’s the same way, but he doesn’t get in trouble for it, because he’s not the brand-new video editor.

Patrick  
  
U coming in today?  
  
SHTI MY ALARM DIDNT GO OFF  
  
Lol no worries do ur thing I’ll try and get tara off your case  
  
I’ll grab u a coffee on my way in so dw about that  
  
Thank you youre a ducking hero  
  
:duck:  
  


Justin is, in point of fact, already at work — which is why he knows Patrick isn’t there yet — but what Patrick doesn’t know won’t hurt him, and no one’s gonna bug Justin if he dips out for ten minutes. Simone raises an eyebrow when he leaves a coffee and a bagel at Patrick’s desk; Justin puts a finger to his lips in a conspiratorial fashion and she shrugs and goes back to what she’s doing.

Thank you :)  
  
;) np  
  
**Today** 8:46 PM  
Hey do you want to get dinner tomorrow  
  


Justin does a little dance around his room in excitement, upon receipt of the last text. He was _so_ hoping, but he didn’t want to be the one to ask. Wanted Patrick to come to him first, in case he’d be uncomfortable saying no to Justin.

He leaves work the next day about twenty minutes before Patrick does, and ambles to the nearby park to find a place to sit and wait. Patrick announces his arrival with a light touch to Justin’s shoulder and a little smile when Justin looks up at him. Justin stands and takes his hand and lets Patrick take the lead, this time, lets him show Justin where he wants to go.

Where he wants to go, apparently, is back to Patrick’s apartment after dinner. They curl up in Patrick’s bed together and exchange slow, sweet, lazy kisses, until something in the air shifts between them and Patrick slides his hands beneath Justin’s shirt and Justin straddles his lap and pushes him down onto his back.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” Justin says into Patrick’s goddamn _unreal_ jawline.

This is how he leans Patrick will fuck on the second date, and that he blushes bright red all the way down to his chest when Justin drops a comment about how he’d loved hearing Patrick moan and whine and call him _daddy_.

Justin pulls back, because he doesn’t want to press, and says, “Is that something — like — are you okay with that? Or was that just kind of a one-off thing. No biggie either way. I mean, I thought it was hot as hell, but if you don’t wanna pursue it that’s totally fine.”

“I mean,” Patrick says carefully, “I’m down. It’s, uh. I like it too, but not — like — I’m not trying to, uh, pursue it further than that? Like that’s pretty much, uh, the extent of it for me.”

Justin snorts. “Yeah, I got you.”

Patrick gives a little smile. “Do you, uh. Do you want to? Fuck, I mean.”

Justin laughs, delighted, unfairly charmed by this stuttery dork of a man. “Yeah, baby, _absolutely_.”

“Kiss me?”

Justin does so, eagerly, appreciating the scruff of Patrick’s beard and the soft wave of his hair and the way his narrow hips fit in Justin’s hands and the way Patrick’s hands feel clutching at Justin’s back. He goes so hard, from zero to sixty at the drop of a hat; Justin can get him to whine real fuckin’ fast with even just some good kissing and groping, and get him to outright begging not much longer after that, if he tries real hard.

Patrick’s a real skittish fucker, jumpy as hell, but goes pliant and eager as soon as you get him by his hair. It’s like all he needs is for someone to wrest that tight control he keeps over himself away for a little while, and he looks so fucking _grateful_ when Justin pins him, closes his eyes and sighs from deep in his bones.

Justin pays a lot of attention to him — of course he does — and watches, as weeks pass, some of the tension slowly begin to release from Patrick’s shoulders at work, like he’s not so scared that the ground’s gonna get ripped out from under him anymore. He comes off a little aloof — he’s reserved, a little quiet, but Justin’s seen him open up in private, and he’s certain it’s only a matter of time before his less serious side shows up. He’s thoughtful, pauses before he speaks like he’s genuinely weighing his words, even though sometimes he says something unintentionally horny and makes Simone or Allegra roar with laughter.

It warms Justin’s goddamn heart, to see the three of them hanging out in the lounge after work, with one or another of them giggling their way through a story as they companionably play a game together. Patrick covers his mouth when he laughs, like he’s self-conscious of his smile — he fucking shouldn’t be, it’s gorgeous, he’s got _dimples_ — but when Justin sees Simone smack him on the arm for something he’s said, sees Patrick’s hand go to cover his grinning mouth, his shoulders shaking with laughter, well. It’s _good_, is what Justin’s saying. He’s grateful to see Patrick happy.

Justin’s not without observational skills — he knows there’s more under there than that tight coil of anxiety, but god, from where Justin’s standing it seems like anxiety all the way the fuck down, most of the time.

Which is why he’s so fucking sad, but it doesn’t surprise him even a little, when another piece of the puzzle falls into his lap. Or out of it, as it were; he and Patrick are on the couch together, watching a movie, with Patrick draped over Justin, his arm around Justin’s shoulders and legs across his lap, with Justin’s hand on the small of Patrick’s back.

The door clatters open to mark Griffin’s return from whatever he was out doing with whoever, and Patrick flinches. Well. He beyond flinches. He all but throws himself across the couch, back up against the other armrest, far away from Justin as he can get, and his eyes are fucking wild for a second before he realizes it’s Griffin.

“Whoa, dog, it’s just me, it’s okay. Give me two seconds and I’ll be totally outta your way,” Griffin says, his eyes darting between Patrick and Justin.

Patrick stays distressingly still, following Griffin’s movements with wide dark eyes. Justin may not know much, but he knows better than to reach out yet; instead, he watches Patrick watch Griffin, as Griffin gets a glass of water from the kitchen, crosses back through the living room, disappears into his bedroom with an awkward wave, and shuts the door behind himself.

The room is quiet but for the sounds of _Mad Max_ playing on the TV for a long moment, until Patrick glances quickly over at Justin, then away again.

With eyes fixed to the floor, Patrick speaks in a tight, terse tone that Justin is finding himself becoming familiar with the longer they’re together. Patrick’s — tricky. Prickly when it comes to real shit, evasive as all hell, thinks fast on his feet, and never _ever_ brings real shit up first, unless by accident or if it’s dragged out of him.

Patrick is also — he admits it like it physically pains him to say it — not out at _all_. He did the responsibly-being-in-a-coworker-relationship shit with Justin, and that’s it. Full stop. He’s had boyfriends before, he says, but never openly. Never told a soul who didn’t need to know. What he did with Justin — that night they hooked up — he’s _never_ done anything like that before in his fucking life.

Justin isn’t sure what to do — what to say — he’s been out for years and years — and finally settles on, “I’ll never ask you to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I promise. I know Griffin would never tell, but I’ll talk to him and make sure for you.”

Patrick nods stiffly.

“Do you want to come back over here? It’s okay if you don’t,” Justin appends quickly.

Patrick moves like a cornered wild thing, so cautious and tense and careful, as he slides back across the couch to lean against Justin’s shoulder. It takes a long, long time for him to settle, for the rigidness in his spine to relax even a little. Justin holds him close but so gently, strokes his fingers over his arm, his shoulder.

He aches for him. He remembers that fear. He wouldn’t wish it on his worst enemy, and yet so many of the people dearest to him know it intimately. And Patrick, this sweet beautiful thing, who _wants_ but doesn’t know how to handle it, who smiles when he sees Justin, who touches him with soft lips and with gentle reverent hands when they’re alone and who studies him with dark intense eyes and who laughs with his whole body…

Justin wants to find who put this pain into him and tell them what they’ve done is _fucking unforgivable_, the way Patrick’s whole being went taut with fear at the sight of _Griffin_, Justin’s baby brother and the sweetest motherfucker in the world, who could hardly hurt so much as a fly besides.

He wonders what happened. He hates that he’s wondering. He’s almost afraid to know. If something even happened at all. It’s bad enough if nothing happened, if he’s simply grown into this by virtue of the social norms around him. It’s worse if something _happened_, if something stomped the innocence out of Patrick Gill — fuck, this is not a path he wants to follow.

Patrick doesn’t say another word on the subject for the rest of the night, and Justin doesn’t press. He’s still tense, but he leans in for a kiss before he heads out. He lets it linger, stays close to Justin for a long moment, their lips hardly a breath apart, before pecking him with one last quick kiss, giving him a flash of a smile, and slipping away out the door.

Justin taps on Griffin’s door, once Patrick is gone. “You have a sec?”

“Yeah. What’s up?” Griffin says, letting Justin into his room. Justin sits down on the edge of the bed, and Griffin sits back down in his desk chair. “Is it about Pat? I’m real sorry for scaring the shit out of him when I came in. I had no idea.”

“Neither did I,” Justin says. “I don’t — I don’t know exactly what all that’s about, but he told me — well, uh. Welcome, I guess, to the highly exclusive club of people who know he’s gay? Apparently, like, fucking _no one_ knows.”

“Oh, shit,” Griffin breathes.

“So I feel like — I’m guessing, like — god, I dunno, but anything that makes a person jump like that can’t be fucking _good_.”

“Yeah, no shit, dude. You can, uh. If you bring him ‘round in the future, just shoot me a text and I can totally clear out, y’know? I don’t want — I don’t want to scare him,” Griffin says, looking pained.

“I’m gonna talk to him, I guess? I don’t wanna push, but, fuck, I absolutely don’t want to do anything that makes that happen again, either.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Griffin says, and as he speaks, Justin’s phone dings with a text message. “Is that him?” Griffin asks, as Justin fishes his phone out of his pocket, and Justin nods. “Go talk to him, get outta my room,” Griffin says, spinning his chair to bop Justin’s calf with the side of his foot. Justin rolls his eyes and ruffles Griffin’s hair on the way out of the room.

Patrick  
  
Sorry for freaking out on you like that  
  
Nothing to be sorry for baby. Are you ok?  
  
Yea ig. I just never know how someone’s going to react haha  
  
I know griffin’s cool but still  
  


Justin presses his knuckles to his mouth. God, he doesn’t — he doesn’t know the right thing to say, doesn’t know how to query without overstepping.

Is there anything I can do to help you feel more comfortable? Or if you want to talk about it i’m here  
  
Not that I’m saying that there’s necessarily an event to talk about just more like the general concept of any of it  
  
You know what I mean  
  


Patrick’s typing bubble is on the screen for a long time; it’s long enough for Justin to change into his pajamas and brush his teeth and get into bed before his phone goes off again.

Yeah I totally get what you’re saying. And honestly I’m not sure but i also don’t want to leave you in a situation where you don’t know what to do? Bc that sucks and I know you were worried. The long and short of it is I was kinda outed in college under some pretty shitty circumstances. By which i mean I was with a guy and my roommate came back unexpectedly and he was uh not cool with it and the guy I was with bolted as soon as he started saying shit and I thought he was totally gonna 100% ditch but he came back w/the RA cause he was afraid shit was gonna break real bad. Like. Worse. Idk if it would have but then i had to move rooms in the middle of the semester and come up with an explanation for my parents as to why my room number change and now every time I so much as hear someone coming down the hall when I’m with someone it scares the shit out of me  
  
One of my exes had birds and I’d jump every time they rattled their cage lol shit’s embarrassing but what can you do  
  
Shit Patrick if I’d known I would’ve told griffin to keep out  
  
It’s okay I didn’t say anything that’s on me  
  
Would you rather keep to your place in the future?  
  
No. I think it’d be good for me to be in a safe environment where there might be another person around and it’s like, okay. I just might panic a little sometimes. So if you don’t mind being patient with me I’m def still ok with being at your apt  
  
Baby I’ll be as patient with you as you need me to be. Promise  
  
Thank you. You’re the best  
  
Thats you babe xo  
  
I’m gonna go pass out now but ill see you tomorrow x  
  
Night baby ♥  
  
Night ♥  
  


* * *

It takes a while for the subject to come up again. They do tend to spend most of their time at Patrick’s regardless, because the privacy is nice. Having a space that’s just the two of them is, really, the ideal situation, for both of them. Patrick is _loud_, and Justin’s not quiet either, and there’s nothing worse than finding out that Griffin was home while he had Patrick over, even if their rooms aren’t adjacent and Griffin’s perfectly capable of making himself scarce or putting on headphones. They’ve lived together for a long time; it’s not an issue or anything — god knows Griffin brings people home and Justin’s the one turning on music to drown him out often enough — but it is embarrassing, and not something he wants to discuss with his brother, like, ever.

So. Patrick’s apartment is vastly preferable.

Patrick is — unsurprisingly, given their first encounter — cuddly as hell, despite being all bones and angles and sharp edges. They’ll curl up in bed together and do nothing but snuggle for hours, because Patrick likes to be touched and Justin likes to touch him. Patrick drinks in the attention and affection like he’s dying for it, and Justin never sees him so relaxed as when they’ve fucked and then showered and then climbed under the blankets together for Justin to pet his hair and to maybe take a little nap.

He looks so much happier, when the tension drops out of his shoulders like that, when he closes his eyes and smiles and tugs Justin in for kisses. It’s — Justin’s fucking _honored_, that he trusts him like this. He’s so damn sweet. God, he just wants him to be happy. To feel safe.

Justin peppers kisses over the back of Patrick’s neck, his shoulders, as he lays behind him as the big spoon. Patrick sighs, leans into it, as Justin presses his thumb into a hickey he left earlier. He trails a hand down Patrick’s ribcage, his belly, pauses just above his pelvis.

“Alright, okay, kitten, I see you,” Justin teases, and Patrick reacts to that — not with his dick, really, but with his body language: he rolls over onto his back and blinks up at Justin and smiles. “O-_kay_, are we discovering shit again?”

“What? Oh, no, I just — it’s just — nice? It’s cute. I like all the shit you call me. Makes me feel, I dunno, special or something. Like you like me enough to come up with things to make me smile. I, uh, I haven’t really considered…” His brow furrows as he thinks, and then he waves it off. “Whatever, I’m not going down that road tonight. I just had the thought that a collar might be fun, that’s all. I dunno if I’d, what, fuckin’ meow at you?”

Justin laughs. “I’m pretty sure that’s not a requirement. And we can _def_ get into collars without it being full-blown petplay, either way.”

“_God_,” Patrick says.

“What! I’m not gonna talk around it, that’d make it harder for both of us. I’m saying, I’m down to try whatever you’re down to try. And if you don’t want to try any of it, that is _also_ okay.”

“I think… I think I’ll get back to you. On that subject,” Pat says. His cheeks are pink. It’s awful cute. “But the nicknames are good. I like that for sure.”

“Duly noted,” Justin says, and leans down for a kiss.

* * *

“Do you want to hang out with me and Griff? We just got the new _Smash_ and it’d be fun to have someone else play. Like — no obligation, promise, if you’re not up for it I won’t take it personally —”

“I think that’d be great,” Patrick says, as genuine as Justin’s ever seen, and Justin beams at him.

Patrick is nervous, shy, but smiling when Justin lets him into the apartment. He tucks his hair behind his ear and says _hey_.

“Hey,” Justin says, and kisses his cheek. “Griff’s gonna be here in ten or so. Do you want a drink or something?”

“Sure,” Patrick says, and follows Justin kitchenward. Justin knows by now that Patrick finds it easier to talk without direct eye contact, and so he goes about his business as he talks.

“Are you cool with, like — are you alright with me touching you if Griff’s around? Like, obviously I’m not gonna be too PDA, that’s my _brother_ —”

“Hah! Yeah, no, that’s fine. Uh, I might be flinchy, I guess? But I’ll — I’ll make it clear if you do something I’m not comfortable with.”

“Okay,” Justin says, as Patrick catches Justin around the waist, tugs him over. Justin smiles up at him. “Can I kiss you?”

“Right now, absolutely,” Patrick says, and Justin pulls him in close.

They’re on the couch when Griffin gets home. Patrick twitches when the door opens, but Griffin smiles wide and waves and says hello with earnest enthusiasm and Patrick looks — relieved, is how Justin would put it — and says hi back and Griffin looks happy and, shit, so does Patrick.

Griffin rattles around in the kitchen, talking at them from a distance, something about something Simone was telling him earlier, and then flops down at the far end of the couch, leaving a full cushion’s worth of space between himself and Patrick and Justin.

They play until they get tired of Griffin kicking all of their asses, and elect to turn on a movie as background noise. Justin doesn’t think Patrick and Griffin have spent a ton of time together, but he’s not surprised that they immediately click. They’re the same age, Justin’s pretty sure — which, okay, he never exactly feels great dating someone the same age as his baby brother, and really there’s a whole nesting-doll situation between that and the coworkers thing and whatever else that Justin spends a lot of time unpacking — but the point is, the two of them seem to be on the same wavelength most of the time.

Justin’s glad; he’s rarely had close friends or partners who didn’t get along with his family, because, well, they’re all sort of cut from the same cloth, but it’s genuinely a relief to see that Patrick seems comfortable around Griffin. He drops his head against Justin’s shoulder, laughing at some bonkers thing Griffin said, and Justin can’t help the shock of joy that courses through him at the casual contact. He meets Griffin’s eyes and Griffin grins at him, like he’s happy for him too.

Justin dares to put his arm around Patrick, whose breath catches at the touch, but then he gently bumps the side of Justin’s face with his head and looks up at him with that sweet smile, and Justin’s heart fully goddamn melts.

Griffin slips out of the room not long after that, blustering about something about _you two and your goddamn sappy looks_, to which Patrick bats his eyelashes and Justin just laughs.

“If you make out on the couch I do _not_ want to hear about it!” Griffin says, as a parting thought, and then his door snaps shut. Patrick and Justin exchange a look, and then burst into giggles.

Patrick plants himself in Justin’s lap, cups Justin’s face in his hands. He doesn’t kiss him; he just looks at him, with those steady dark eyes. He has an intensity to him that feels like he’s looking into your goddamn soul when he makes eye contact, but Justin never feels scrutinized, not in a bad way. Maybe it’s selfish, or vain, but he gets the impression that when Patrick looks at him, he likes what he sees.

“Justin,” Patrick says, at length, “I love you.”

Justin feels his eyes go wide in pure surprised delight. “I love you too!” he says, enthusiastic, breathless, a little too loud, but Patrick laughs, a sound that’s nothing but happiness, and leans down to kiss him.

* * *

“Legs is letting me borrow a game and wants to stop by to drop it off, do you mind if she comes up for a minute? I think Simone might be with her,” Patrick says, on an inconspicuous weekend afternoon.

“Sure. Where’d you put my shirt?” Justin says, as Patrick gets up off the bed. Patrick picks it up off the floor and throws it at Justin’s face, and laughs at Justin’s offended expression. “D’you want me to…?” He trails off, not sure what he’s asking. Patrick has his back to him, buttoning his shirt.

“You’re fine. We should maybe make the bed look like we didn’t just fuck in it, though,” Patrick says, with a wry little smile over his shoulder.

“Fair enough,” Justin says, standing. Patrick leans over to steal a quick kiss. “Let me handle that. Go put some pants on,” he says, and grabs his ass to make him squawk for good measure. Patrick gives him his very best glare, but the corners of his mouth try to twitch up into a smile.

Patrick’s pacing around the apartment as he waits for them is a display of such anxiety that Justin can easily guess what’s on his mind.

“You don’t have to tell anyone anything you don’t want to,” Justin says softly. “I’m never gonna pressure you to come out if you’re not ready.”

He stops in place and looks at Justin. His hands are in his pockets, his posture tense, his eyes a little too wide to not show his nerves, but he looks _determined_. “I love you,” he says, “and they’re my best friends, and I trust them, and — and I want them to know. I liked not having to hide around Griffin. I want to feel that way with them, too.”

Justin sweeps him into a hug. “I’m proud of you,” Justin says into his shoulder. “I’m proud of you no matter what you do or don’t do or say. I just — god, you’ve come so far, Patrick. I love you so much.”

Patrick kisses the top of his head and hugs him back tight tight tight, until his phone buzzes and he steps back to check it. “They’re here,” he says.

Justin is sitting on the edge of Patrick’s bed when Allegra and Simone walk into the apartment. He glances up from his phone when Patrick opens the door for them. It is mysteriously like the decibel level in the room raises dramatically as soon as they’re both inside.

“Hey, Justin! I didn’t know you’d be here,” Allegra says, crosstalk with Simone, who is greeting Patrick. Patrick lets the door fall shut and allows his friends to hug him hello before he says more than a returned pleasantry. Allegra drops her backpack on a chair to rummage through it for whatever it is she is delivering to Patrick, who is wringing his hands.

Justin catches Patrick’s eye and Patrick gives a thin smile, before he is distracted by Allegra shoving a Playstation game into his hands.

“You have to like this game or we’re not allowed to be friends anymore,” she informs him, and he scoffs, and she laughs. “Whatcha been up to?”

Patrick stutters a little, and diverts the topic. “Probably nothing as exciting as you two.”

“Are you accusing us of being troublemakers?” Simone says, and Patrick laughs and holds his hands up.

“You said it, not me!” he says.

Justin intends to stay quiet, to not draw attention to himself unnecessarily, but Allegra and Simone both keep shooting curious looks in his direction.

“Are you guys gonna hang out, or do you have plans?” Patrick says.

“Well, I wasn’t going to set us up to overstay our welcome, but if you’re _inviting_ us, I think you should start the game so I can tell you what to do,” Allegra says, then glances at Justin again. “But if you guys are busy, don’t feel obligated!”

“No, I, uh — you can, you can hang out, if you want to,” Patrick says, and so Simone and Allegra set themselves up on the couch, and Patrick sits down next to Justin, a carefully calculated space between them. Justin wonders how many times Patrick has been in situations like this, hiding his boyfriend in plain sight. He dedicates himself to scrolling through menus on the console, and Justin can see from this close that his hands are trembling. He wants to reach out, to touch him, to hold him and steady him, but he knows he can’t. So he watches, instead.

But Pat abruptly sets the controller down and takes a deep breath, turns back towards Simone and Allegra, the movement shifting him a little closer to Justin.

“Hey, uh, so,” Patrick says, his voice a little strangled. He clears his throat. “I, um.” Pause. “Justin is — I — we’re dating. He’s my boyfriend.” He reaches for Justin’s hand and links their fingers together, as he says that last. He’s shaking like a leaf. Justin squeezes his hand, reassuring him.

“That is so freaking cute,” is Allegra’s response, and Patrick laughs, just this side of hysterical. “How long have you been together?”

“Couple months,” Justin says.

“Ooh, before you started at Polygon, or after?” Simone says, putting her chin in her hands, leaning forward with interest.

“Uh,” Justin says with a laugh, exchanging a look with Patrick. “Yes? I mean, it was a series of coincidences, really.”

Patrick nods. He’s holding Justin’s hand in a vice grip. He looks like he might keel over, and also like he might not be able to make words right now.

“Please don’t tell anyone, though,” Justin says, his voice lower, more serious.

“I would never,” Simone says, with the same gravity. She looks Patrick over, and something in her expression shifts. “Pat, can I, like, hug you or something?”

Patrick gives a shaky nod and she bounds across the room to hop up onto the bed and fling her arms around his shoulders. Patrick freezes for a second, and then wraps his arms around her waist and hugs her back. She’s whispering to him, something Justin can’t quite catch, but Patrick’s breath hitches and he buries his face into her shoulder, holding her like she’s a lifeline. She strokes her thumb over the top ridges of his spine, still speaking softly, rocking them back and forth a little, either along with Patrick’s self-soothing or her own attempt to help. This does seem to have an effect, because he visibly shudders and then relaxes a little, his face still pressed into her shirt.

“Can I join the party?” Allegra says.

“Yeah,” Patrick says, his voice a little raw. “It’s huggin’ Pat time, apparently.”

“Get in here too, Justin,” Simone says, holding out an arm for him, and he scoots closer to wrap his arms around Patrick’s midsection and press his lips to his temple. Patrick turns his head to look at him.

“You alright?” Justin murmurs, running his fingertips over Patrick’s cheek.

“I will be,” Patrick says, just as softly, and then goes _oof_ when Allegra collides with his other side.

“Anxiety is canceled,” Allegra proclaims. “You’re my best brother, no matter what. ‘Kay? Also, jeez, you landed a freaking McElroy and you didn’t even know who they _were_ before you started here, you asshole!”

“What_ever_,” Patrick mumbles, but Justin can see he’s smiling.

“I wasn’t aware that Patrick holds a coveted position,” Justin says, and Allegra reaches around Patrick to swat Justin’s arm.

“Shut up, you don’t know because it would go to your head, obviously! It is just so rare to find a decent guy with a commitment to, like, _not_ being a major jerk, and you, like, make an effort. The bar is freaking _underground_, but still.”

“I do my best,” Justin says, a little embarrassed.

“I think your best is pretty goddamn good,” Patrick says, wrapping an arm around Justin.

“You are too stinkin’ cute,” Allegra huffs. “Save some for the rest of us.”

“You’re plenty cute!” Simone says to her, which sparks a spat of good-natured bickering. They slowly disentangle from Patrick, leaving him to lean against Justin, with Justin’s arm around his waist. He’s not shaking anymore; in fact, he turns to Justin and gives him a quick little kiss on the cheek.

“I love you,” he whispers to Justin. “Thank you.”

“I love you so much,” Justin whispers back, and squeezes him tighter. Patrick gives a contented little hum.

“Hey, Pat!” Allegra says. “So are you going to play this game or are you just gonna snuggle all afternoon? ‘Cause if you’re just gonna snuggle, we’ll give you your space.”

“Oh,” Patrick says. He’s blushing. “I can multitask?” he suggests, to giggling from all three of them.

“Seems legit to me!” Simone says. “Do you have snacks? I think snacks should be involved.”

“I agree!” says Allegra. Patrick sighs, but fondly.

“Should we just order a pizza or something?” Justin suggests, tucking his face against the side of Patrick’s neck.

“I’m not calling,” Patrick says. “Or moving. So if that’s the plan, someone else is gonna have to take initiative.”

“That sounds fair,” Simone says, already fumbling for her phone. “Impromptu fuckin’ pizza party! I am so into it.”

“What’s the party for?” Patrick says, distracted by the opening cutscene.

“‘Cause we’re proud of you,” Simone says, like it’s obvious. “And also because we’re invading your apartment. We should get cake. Cupcakes, maybe?”

“Oh my god,” Patrick sighs, but he’s smiling, smiling like Justin rarely sees when they’re not alone. “I love you guys.”

“We know!” Simone chirps. Allegra shoves at her shoulder. “And we love you too, _obviously_,” she adds, as Allegra nods vigorously. “Alright, what toppings does everyone want?”

This predictably dissolves into more affectionate argument, but Justin doesn’t mind. He rests his cheek against Patrick’s shoulder, feels the rise and fall of his breathing under his hands, the happiness and relief radiating off him.

There’s not a single place in the world Justin would rather be than right here, right now. He closes his eyes in contentment, and lets the comforting, familiar pitch of Patrick’s voice wash over him.

Justin loves him so goddamn _much_.

**Author's Note:**

> writing siblings always ends up feeling like writing about me and my sister LMAO lovingly antagonistic
> 
> no i dont know why i decided justin calls him patrick and not pat bc theres no real canonical support for that but...... Stylistic Choices


End file.
